


Till Death

by lahijadelmar



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M, Honeymoon, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Married Couple, Murder Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-08 12:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14694309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lahijadelmar/pseuds/lahijadelmar
Summary: The newly married Camille and Richard have been given exactly three days off for their staycation honeymoon and neither would like to see that time wasted. Unfortunately, murder cases have a way of finding them even during passionate embraces on the beach.Sexual stuff implied but nothing spelled out (yet)!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Have not yet finished watching season 2, technically, but I'm pretty sure the show ends after that. Absolutely nothing happens after. Nope. Season 3? I don't know her. Anyway, here's a suggestion of what PROBABLY, logistically happened some time after the events of season 2. Marriage was inevitable, as was more murder. 
> 
> Just the beginning of a multi-chaptered story.

The earliest rays of of the morning sun (that same, blasted light that had all but blinded him when he first got here) peeked through the wooden slats, cast themselves across the bed like golden fingers begging them both awake. It was still a harsh, unforgiving light, to be sure, but Richard found more and more he didn’t mind it so much when it was illuminating Camille’s skin in a dewy glow. She was still asleep, wrapped up in the cheap cotton bed sheets, her hair in the natural curl.

 

The wilting bouquet of hibiscus on the side table and wedding clothes strewn about the floor were the only physical evidence to what had happened the day before- for Richard, however, this was a morning a thousand times unlike any of the others that they’d woken up together. After all, this was the morning he could say, for the _very first time_ :

 

“Ah. Good morning, Mrs. Bordey-Poole. Was beginning to wonder when you might join us.”

 

She giggled sleepily and stretched like a cat.

 

“Am I _not_ allowed to sleep-in the morning after my wedding? We’ve only got three days, you know…”

 

“And here I thought I was getting myself an early riser.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed with every intention to start them the breakfast he’d planned. “That’s false advertising, I’m afraid. By all rights I should serve you papers...but I suppose egg and soldiers will have to suffice for now.”

 

Sleeping was all well and good, but Richard had always been the restless type and he had aspirations of making the most of his and Camille’s uninterrupted time alone. He may or may not have even written them up a schedule (he definitely did).

 

But as was characteristic of her, his new wife had _other_ plans.

 

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His pajamas did little to mute the feel of her bare breasts pressing into his back.

 

“Stay in bed a bit longer,” she coaxed in that silken purr of hers, nuzzling his ear, gently biting his ear lobe. “I promise to make it worth your while.”

 

“ _Succubus_ ,” he teased, placing his hand over hers, but it was somewhat true. She commanded a power of lust over him that he couldn’t hope to fight and wouldn’t ever want to...but, perhaps, he had some surprises yet for _her_.

 

In the course of their relationship he’d gotten more and more comfortable taking a lead, but turning around and happily tackling her back into bed with kisses was without precedent. She laughed and threw her head back and he took the opportunity to plant a trail of kisses along the column of her neck.

 

“Let’s see if I can find a use for you, then, Sergeant,” he said with a hint of a lascivious growl. Camille grinned, bit her lip before hiking her legs up around him.

 

* * *

  
  


“I’m proud of you,” Camille said as they made their way along the sand, the latter half of the day stretching out lazily before them. “Not only did you consent to being _married_ on the beach...but I somehow, _finally_ got you into island-appropriate clothing. Were you waiting for wedding vows this entire time?”

 

“Oh, _guilty_ , I’m afraid,” Richard confessed. “‘Twas my plan all along and you fell for it hook, line and sinker.”

 

She laughed and squeezed his hand. He didn’t used to avidly try to make her laugh and...well, he still didn’t, because he didn’t know how to be funny. Still, he seemed to amuse _her_ and there was nothing he loved more than the sound of her laughter, so he did what he could to play up _himself_ here and there to hopefully encourage her amusement.

 

“In all seriousness,” he amended. “I decided the one occasion it was _encouraged_ I wear a tailored suit on the beach was as good as the last. I...want to acclimate to things here. Really try, anyway. I mean, I’ve...I’ve rather married into the island, haven’t I?”

 

“Perhaps...though I believe the island wanted you _long_ before.”

 

“Well...perhaps that longing was mutual.”

 

They stopped and Camille took advantage of the moment to pull him to her.

 

“Then why did you leave it so long?” she begged his answer, ghosting her lips over his. He replied in desperation, “Because I am an utter fool,” and kissed her hard as the two of them stumbled backwards into the shade of thick cluster of palm trees, all hands and lips and tongues like a pair of 20 year old university students. True to that fashion, things seemed to be going the way of resuming their course from the house _right there_ in the palm tree cluster (to which Richard _had_ to admit to being a bit trepidatious, even on this secluded stretch of beach) and they probably would have had a lifeless limb not thudded against Camille’s shoulder.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richard notices inconsistencies on a corpse. Wouldn't be of any trouble or issue if he wasn't still on his honeymoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens, I guess! Mentions of suicide in this chapter so please be aware. The beginning (as I -think- will become clear as you read) is meant to be a flashback. Stating it here just in case I didn't make it clear enough, which is possible.

It wasn’t until she was outside the banquet hall, sobbing in a cocktail dress and heels, trudging through the beach sand, that regret for doing this washed over him in a big way. He had been so focused on ‘grabbing the bull by the horns’,  _ finally _ speaking his mind, that it didn’t occur to him how much this would affect her. It had never been Richard’s intention to ruin Camille’s night. 

 

“I don’t understand why you are so thoroughly committed to  _ spoiling _ everything!” she shouted, tearful. “It is  _ none _ of your business who I choose to spend my time with! If you were  _ truly _ my friend, you’d accept my choices and leave me and whoever I’m with the hell alone!” 

 

She had a way of reducing him to nothing but quivering apologies...but in  _ this _ case it was difficult to even get an attempted ‘I’m sorry’ out edgewise. He wasn’t sure it would matter at this juncture anyway. 

 

Camille continued, “You know, there was a time I would’ve allowed you a say in who I spend time with. You left it too long. It’s hardly my fault I got tired of waiting.” 

 

The feelings between them were, at best, an open secret- the proverbial elephant in the room they and everyone else continued to try to tip toe around for the sake of...work? Their friendship?  _ His _ issues? It was harder every day to find good justification for it, really. 

 

“No...it isn’t your fault,” he agreed. “That’s not-...that isn’t the point I’m trying to make…”

 

“Then what  _ is _ the point, Richard?”  

 

A deep breath for some sense of strength. It didn’t work, but he knew he had to press on anyway. 

 

“I...realize my dislike of Ramon to this point has been well-documented, but...in all fairness, I don’t take to most people I meet and that’s-...nothing new to you, of course.”

 

He was struggling to make his point and it was getting harder to come smoothly to a definitive conclusion with her glaring him down like that. Still,  _ he _ knew what the underlying cause for all of this was and that gave him something to work with, albeit small. 

 

“The sad truth is, Camille, as I’m sure you’ve probably surmised...I dislike Ramon for the unique reason that he did what I never seemed capable of bringing myself to do; he was honest with you about how he felt. And, granted, that was likely a lot easier for him given that you don’t work together and-”

 

“So you’re  _ jealous _ ?” 

 

Richard looked down at the sand in red-faced embarrassment. He couldn’t run from the truth any more. 

 

“I imagine that isn’t a huge surprise.” 

 

There was an uncomfortable beat of silence and he didn’t know quite how to interpret it (too afraid to make eye contact with Camille to decipher it for himself) until, finally, she said, 

 

“Well. That is for  _ you _ to deal with. Ramon’s waiting for me inside and I should get back to him.” 

 

He should’ve let her go. If he was a better man he would have, but the selfishness in him called out, “P-please, wait…!” and, miraculously, she  _ did _ . 

 

“I-...!” He struggled all at once with a thousand different words to convey what he was feeling in a digestible, polite way, but in the end the only thing that could come out was, “I’m in love with you, Camille. That’s-...that’s it. That’s all there is to it.  _ I love you _ . And I don’t say it out of a sense of expectation or with a hope to ruin your life or your relationship but because I felt if I didn’t-...I don’t know. I don’t know, I felt I’d never forgive myself.”

 

She just stared at him. For all his experience reading people and body language cues he couldn’t, for the life of him, guess what she must have been thinking. 

 

He swallowed thickly. 

 

“I  _ know _ I’m difficult. I realize I’m often rude and standoffish. I’ve known that for awhile, actually, and I had no real incentive to be anything different until I met you. You inspire me to rise to the occasion...because you deserve nothing less. Still, I’ve failed you. I should’ve told you long ago, hesitation be damned. And...I’m sorry for anything this might complicate. I...won’t compromise your enjoyment of the evening any longer.” 

 

He turned to make the long trek home across the thick sand dunes in polished dress shoes. Camille hesitated exactly 10 seconds before running after him. 

* * *

  
“Well, I hope you didn’t expect for this honeymoon to go off without  _ any _ interruption.” 

 

Richard sighed, removing his glove as the corpse was trundled away in a body bag. His tendency to get wrapped up in his own misfortune and miss the gravity of the moment was rightfully pointed out to him by Camille. 

 

“I’m  _ grateful _ neither of us were in the same mental place he was,” she said, referring to the body of the man they’d found hanging from the palm tree above them. “We’re very fortunate.” 

 

“Oh...well, yes. Of course.” 

 

Being around dead bodies so often and in a purely professional, investigational capacity made him sometimes forget the reverence of who they once were, what had happened to them. All the better that Camille was at his side in life and in work. Her empathy sat a little closer to the surface. 

 

“At any rate,” she said, taking his hand in reassurance. “ _ Not _ a murder.” 

 

Richard had taken it for granted too, but just as his mind was used to bodies being objects for work and little else, he was also unable to overlook tell-tale signs of foul play. His mind went back to the corpse of the middle-aged man- couldn’t have been more than a couple hours dead, and the little rips and tears and ruffles on his clothes that indicated a struggle. It only hit him now. 

 

She sensed it before he could say anything. 

 

“ _ Oh no _ .” 

 

“Well, I’m not any more enthused than you are but I can’t very well _ ignore _ it.” 

 

Camille sighed. “Alright then. Tell me what you saw.” 

 

* * *

  
“Only you two would be  _ here _ on the day after your wedding,” Dwayne observed with his usual teasing reproach. “And for an obvious suicide, no less. What could he have possibly found this time?”

 

Richard was already hard at work and completely in the zone at his desk, combing over facts about the victim and the crime scene photos.  

 

“Signs of struggle on the clothing,” Camille replied with a sigh. “It might be nothing, but until we can confirm one way or the other…” 

 

A little incredulous, Dwayne felt obligated to point out, “ _ We _ can handle this, you know. Fidel’s a Sergeant now!” 

 

Camille grinned. “Yes...thank you for reminding me.” 

 

Let it never be said Camille didn’t love working with Richard (even for all the difficulties and frustrations and power struggles from time to time) and wouldn’t want anyone else as her partner in crime  _ solving _ , but dammit, she wanted a little bit of time for just them. No murders, no puzzles but the jigsaw on the table at home. When Richard poured himself into a case he really poured  _ all _ of himself. She went into this marriage knowing that, not expecting or wanting to change him, but didn’t they deserve at least a couple of days to just be husband and wife?

 

“You know-” she began, leaning against his desk in a manner that suggested his listening to her would result in very good things later that night...but she was quickly interrupted. 

 

“See, it just doesn’t make sense.” He was pushing a crime scene photo into her hands. “The blood vessel markings around the neck aren’t consistent with a hanging, the patterning’s all wrong.” 

 

“Richard-”

 

“And the tearing of the clothes, the bloodied fingernails...why would a man who was planning to hang himself get into a brawl?”

 

“As much as I would  _ love _ to play devil’s advocate, I don’t doubt you’re on to something,” she assured, handing the photo back. “But...you’re forgetting Fidel has been a Sergeant for awhile now. Maybe it would be a good idea to give him a case of his own for once?” 

 

Richard stared at her a moment and she could see that tell-tale falling of spirits in realization that she was right. He was obsessed with this now though, she realized, and pulling him away from it would be easier said than done, but...honeymoon privacy aside, Fidel did really need the experience and exercise. 

 

“Ah, yes, well-...”

 

Fidel seemed to have heard his name and perked up like a hopeful student finally getting called on in class. “You think I should take this case?” 

 

Camille looked at her husband with a smirk and a raised eyebrow of expectation. It was  _ impossible _ to say no to an excited Fidel. 

 

“ _ Well _ , I-...” Richard shifted his weight. “It  _ would _ seem about time for you to head up a case...I don’t doubt you’re ready, but-...even so-...!” Wetting his lips nervously, quickly searching for a safe ‘out’. “Given that you’re still relatively green and being that this situation is far from cut and dried- the Commissioner will take some convincing that this  _ wasn’t _ just a routine suicide, for instance- I...think it would be best if Camille and I still kept an iron or two in the fire.” 

 

Camille sighed, but relented. It was a fair enough compromise and Richard had a point. Fidel still seemed as enthused as ever, so that was something.

 

“Alright,  _ tomorrow _ , when the body is identified we’ll come back and help narrow down a list of suspects. I’m sure Dwayne and Fidel can handle the subsequent enquiries.”

 

Camille had effectively put her foot down and took Richard’s hand just to make that very clear.  

 

“For  _ now _ ,” she said to him with a pointed look. “You and I have business at home.” 

 

Her tone was firm rather than sultry, but she’d soon let Richard know she hadn’t drug him away from a perplexing crime without due cause. Dwayne and Fidel seemed to guess as much, as the latter was stifling a giggle and the former was winking at Richard as he left in that same purposefully overt and utterly embarrassing way as he had when they’d begun to depart the reception. 

 

“You do realize this will hardly be our first time…?” Richard had whispered then, annoyed. 

 

“Oh, sure, but it’s the  _ wedding night _ . You know what that means-!” 

 

“I’m sure I  _ don’t _ ,” he scoffed with a deep blush, followed by a very terse, “Goodeveningdwaynethankyouforattending” before rushing out after Camille as quickly as he could. 

 


End file.
